It was a near disaster, as I lost my list somewhere between the car and the first store, and couldn't find it when I retraced my steps. There was no time to go home and reconstruct it, so I had to rely on memory— a chancy strategy even at the best of times. Since returning home I have recalled one item in particular I'd wanted but forgot, and there are undoubtedly others. I picked up a couple of things I know were not on the list, but still spent slightly less money than I'd expected. Forgetting ones list is one way to economize, I suppose, but I wouldn't recommend it.
If forgetting things was an Olympic event I'd be gold.
Now I'm going to eat something because I'm pretty sure I'll be falling asleep early tonight, and I hate to sleep on an empty stomach. Especially my own.
by Kazim Ali
a light knocking on the sleep door
like the sound of a rope striking the side of a boat
boats pulling up alongside each other
beneath the surface we rub up against each other
will we capsize in
the surge and silence
of waking from sleep
you are a lost canoe, navigating by me
I am the star map tonight
all the failed echoes
the painted-over murals
you can find your way to me
by the faint star-lamp
we are a fleet now
our prows zeroing in
praying in the wind
to spin like haywire compasses
toward whichever direction
will have us